Absolution
by MyLiverHurtz
Summary: A certain someone from Clark's past is found frozen at the bottom of the lake, revived and put in intensive care. Clark and Chloe invetigate a series of crimes point to the teen's involvement while overcoming personal problems.
1. The End of the World

_A/N: This story takes place right after "Transferrence". I never saw "Jynx", therefore assume this is a replacement for it in terms of how Chloe and Clark managed to smooth things over somewhat. Hmm... any reviewers, please make note of any characters on the show that you think aren't being portrayed correctly. I'm struggling with dialog.  
_

John Mercan wasn't exactly in the best of moods these days. Less and less students were signing up for his lessons which, quite frankly, annoyed him. It was his secondary source of income! His life. Teaching others about diving, but more importantly, exploration and how to do it safely. Seeing things up close and personal that most people would never see. The oceans - and, by extension, lakes - could be just as exciting as exploring space. There was far more to find on the bottom of the ocean floor than on the surface or Mars or Saturn. Wait... did Saturn have a surface? Or was it one of the gas giants?

Did it really matter? No, he supposed not. Nothing in space did matter when it came down to it, proving his point. The sea was glorious!

"We're here." he said, all of those recurrent thoughts again buried as he powered down the boat's engines and watched two of his students lower an anchor. This lake wasn't exactly the vast depths of the Pacific, but it was a most excellent place to teach scuba diving. The geography was stunning and intricate in parts, and very stable. he turned around, stepping down from his miniture 'bridge' and onto the main deck where seven students stood in front of him, all in appropriate diving gear of course. "We all know the drill. This is a practice survey. You're all going to go down there and retrieve a plant that you haven't seen in real life before. Who knows, maybe we'll find something special. God knows the lake is litered with them green rocks." he said, laughing softly. He always found stories of the meteor rock mutative powers humourous.

Richard chuckled along with every other student, though he really did hate remarks like that. Joking about the rocks... considering what he knows they were responsible for. He'd read stories of those freakish things caused by the rocks, it's effect on all living things. Causing mutations. He didn't believe it when he was a child, he horded the rocks like gold since his fifth birthday. They glowed every once and a while. But now, of course, he wouldn't get to see that glowing for much longer... they gave him his caner, he knew it. The doctors didn't have any other explaination as to why radiation didn't do anything to the cancer cells. That was unheard of.

"Alright, you all know what to do. We've never explored this area of the lake but the geography is stable. But, that's no reason to get careless! You'll all have radio contact with me and one another if you need it. Don't use up the frequency, though, others may need it to." the instructor said.

Richard sighed and nodded, going through the routine of his final checkup. In another twenty minutes or so he was under the lake, surprised at how warm it felt... he was at the bottom of the lake, scouring over a rather dull section of the lake. No plant life. Why were there no plants? Oh, there was some... new. Not old, but new. He wondered how the others' were fairing... Richard had gone away from all of them so he wouldn't be disturbed. He'd found a region with little plantlife. And, was it just him, or was it colder? Perhaps that was why there were so few plants... and so fewer in that direction, where it got deeper. Perhaps he'd find a special plant in there, one that could survive the cold? He would get commended for finding such a thing in the lake.

Richard swam closer and closer to a corner in a deeper orner of the lake, finding less and less plants... it was getting colder. And darker. Was the darkness cause for the cold? Too dark. He reached back behind him, pulling out his flashlight and turning it on... he pointed it in front of him, swmiming forward and forward. He was in complete darkness now. He looked up, finding rock quite a ways up... he was being overshadowed by land, and glowing green rocks. Horrible, vile, destructive green rocks. He looked to the floor, seeing it very much untouched... maybe nobody had been here, turned off by the ever-increasing cold and darkness. He could be alone here, seperate from everybody else... their annoying lessons and mindless chit-chatter. The cold became more comforting as he thought about this.

It just got colder and colder, though, enough to make him shiver... he was numb. He knew he should call for help, get someone down here to pull him out to safety. Live the last month or so of his life, wait for the pain to increase and kill him, surrounded by family that had never cared before crying and pretending that they were sad. He'd be in extruciating pain and unable to do anything but wait. Or, he could stay here... wait until his air ran out, end it here and now where he was cold, alone. Safe. They'd never find him, his body would remain here. And with the cold, oh, he'd be here for a while undisturbed. Peaceful. That seemed very appealing. He started shivering more, his body trying to keep warm... he kept swimming and swimming, down and forward, until he hit something.

Ice?

He reached out, touching it... there was no mistaking. On the floor there was a large... clump of ice. How had ice survived down here? It was 6 degrees in the water. Fall. This ice would have had to have been a glacier... and Richard knew quite well there were no glaciers - big or small - existing outside of a freezer. He drew his face closer, peering at the ice... something was inside. He put his flashlight up to the ice, trying to illimunate inside... yes, there was something. Meteor rocks? Was that the cause of the ice? Damnit, he couldn't see.

He pressed his face to the ice, opening his eyes wide... it was too cold to keep himself still, but he tried to see. For some reason his flashlight wasn't illuminating it very well... he tried angling it to the side slowly, perhaps refraction would help. Aha! It was working... he could almost see it... with one more degree, the object's contours were finally lit, it's dull angles reflecting light back into Richard's eye.

There was a boy in the ice.


	2. Consequence

John stood beside Richard, looking through the clear glass at the hospital room with no bed... there was a tank brought in from metropolis a few hours ago in which the ice was placed. John still had a hard time believing all of this. A student frozen in the ice for what seems like years, but still has a higher ambient temperature than the ice itself? That meant he was still alive... theoretically. He would have to be revived. He stood there, watching as the ice was melted away slowly by warmer saline water mixed with some blue chemical. It would only take another two hours or so before he was completely unfrozen, then an identification check could be completed. "Amazing..." he whispered.

Richard looked up to him, sighing a little as he crossed his arms. "It doesn't make sense." he said. Perhaps this... ice boy tried to commit suicide as well. Maybe he was as in just as much pain as Richard with no hope of getting better... if that was the case, why did his attempt fail? Who was god to prevent one of his creations from terminating their existence? It seemed to Richard that, quite fitting so in his mind, was a very cold thing to do.

Clark hated it when it was this cold. He'd left his window open on the wrong night, cool breezes infiltrated his room while he slept, setting up the perfect, unavoidable trap once the man of steel had woken up. Nothing else in Clark's day cause more dread in his mind than pulling off those warm, comfortable blankets... but he did it, of course, giving a slight gasp as he shot up. He got dressed quickly, but not in superspeed. There was no point to superspeeding, after all. The air was still cold whether it was moving quick or slow.

It hit Clark, though, that there was something far more of a dread then a simple cold flash that had already been rectified by clothing himself. He had too many things to worry about... Lionel, in particular, and most especially Chloe and Lana. He'd managed to speak with Lana on the phone, reached some sort of understanding about what had happened when Lionel inhabited his body. She didn't know the truth, of course, but things were still better.

Chloe, though. That was a different matter. She'd called Clark once and given him the directive to go to hell quite some times, after which she refused to answer the phone for Clark. She wouldn't give him the chance to try and work things out. What had Lionel done? If Clark had any idea of what the man had said or done using him, Clark would be in a better situation now. Two minutes with a truthful Lionel would go light-years towards sowing his life back to what it was supposed to be. Lana was going out with Whitney and was happy, Pete and Clark were best friends and happy, and Chloe and Clark had a budding relationship that could have worked out. There was nothing to speak of concerning Jor El or his inner demons unleashed or mental transferences.

About three hours later Clark walking down the halls of Smallville High, trying to make it to his locker with as little interaction with others as he possibly could. His mind was busy at work, of course, trying desperately to come up with something to tell Chloe... it was rather impossible, though. There was only one possible way to explain, and that was to tell her the truth. A rush of fear went through his head... Pete had flipped out, he'd gotten hurt because of it. He regretted Clark ever telling him. He left Smallville because of it. How would Chloe react? Pete was always loyal to Clark, and in truth, Chloe hadn't been. She'd been hurt in the past and had been unstable. Clark couldn't risk not telling her... especially not unless they were on the best of terms. And, right now, they weren't.

Clark had never seen such a cold face.

Chloe had never seen such a disgusting face.

Revolting. Here he was, the first time seeing her since what he'd said, and he just had a paralyzed look of utter terror on his face. Chloe wasn't sure what she'd expected, though... she'd indulged herself the night before. Reading her poetry in the cafeteria, on his knees, giving her a knife - or gun, just do something. Then she could throw it in his face, find someway to make him suffer. But this way she knew she'd start to crack... here he was, big dumb Clark. The exact opposite of what he was like when he'd hurt her. It seemed odd to Chloe how Clark could be so fundamentally different sometimes... a whole other person besides the brute that had yelled at her in Metropolis or intentionally crushed her heart nights ago. She didn't quite know how to deal with what was happening between them, as even thinking about what he'd said was making her weak... and Chloe couldn't have that. Otherwise she'd give in. She couldn't say anything to Clark, not yet, so she didn't.

Chloe started walking again, moving past Clark without a word, quite easily breaking a five year tradition of at least saying "hello" or "excuse me". Chloe wanted to make it clear that their friendship was over. There was no getting over what he said to her, nothing could make up for it. Not even lies about how he didn't know what he'd said. The very least he could've done was admit the truth!

"Chloe, wait!" he yelled, the girl hearing him running up behind her.

Chloe stopped dead, narrowing her eyes as she turned around to face her former best friend. Wait? How could _he_ tell _her_ to wait? Even out of context the thought was shocking. She'd been waiting for him to give her a chance for years. She'd thought she'd finally had it, but again, he ruined that for her.

"Chloe, I can explain..."

Sullivan fumed. Explain? She stepped forward to him, looking up... and even in looking up she looked quite threatening. "I'm sure you have a wonderfully pitiful excuse, Clark," she said. It surprised her how little anger was in her voice... she wanted more, but she supposed this cool emotionless tone was what he deserved more. "But it'll be the same as always. You're just going to say that you were somebody else."

Clark gulped, shaking his head... he leaned downwards and touched her shoulders, trying to calm her down. "No, this time I really was somebody else..."

Chloe laughed. Not out of humour, per say, but she had to do something else than cry in front of him. So that was it. "So the first time was really you? Oh, I see. This time is okay because you lied about the last time." she said. "Okay Clark, I get it. Thanks for explaining."

"-That's not what I meant! Chloe, please listen-"

"-No!" she screamed, using her hands to force his off of her shoulders. He had no right to touch her anymore; he didn't have the right to hug or say hello to her. She took in several deep breaths, regaining her icy composure. "Don't talk to me." she said, shaking her head as she walked off. Chloe heard Clark following yet again... didn't he know when to stop? Chloe found what she was looking for, the Torch office, so she dove in and locked the door behind her. She let her back fall against the door, sliding down with closed eyes and a sob. She held her hand up to shield her eyes from the invisible occupants of the room, ashamed of it. She didn't want to cry over Clark. He'd done something horrible to her, she had no intention of rebuilding a friendship that must have never existed in his mind.

She sat there for what seemed like hours, losing all perception of time as she just sat. She needed to erase Clark. Chloe lowered her hand and stood up, shaking just a little as she looked around the room. Her computer. She quickly sat down in front of it, taking it out of sleep and moving to her pictures folder. Lana had found her pictures of Clark and her on their first date, discovered that she still liked Clark. That wasn't true anymore, Chloe wouldn't let herself feel anything more for him. She loaded up the pictures one by one, staring at it a good few seconds before clicking "Yes" on the delete prompt.

A few minutes later, when Chloe had just smiled at passing the halfway mark of erasing the images, was interrupted by a knock at the door. She looked up, giving something of a scowl. "Clark?" she asked, making it quite clear that she wasn't happy to see him at all.

"No. It's Principal Marchen." said the voice, clearly who he said he was. Nobody had such a fast but low-pitched voice as Marchen had.

Chloe got up and opened the door, quickly wiping her cheeks dry... her eyes would be terribly swollen, but she didn't care. She unlocked the door and opened it, inviting him in, making sure that after he was clear that she'd close and lock it again. "What can I do for you?" she asked, moving herself to stand in front with a light, weak smile.

"Is something wrong, Ms. Sullivan?" he asked curiously, tilting his head as he examined her swollen eyes.

"Allergies." she said, laughing softly.

Mr. Marchen nodded, sighing a little as he raised and crossed his arms. "I just wished to inform you that the hospital has called the school about the found student, a former attender of Smallville Highschool. I was wondering if you could prepare a new front page with an article about this. Morale has been noticeably down, I was hoping that this could... lighten spirits, I suppose."

Chloe nodded and really smiled, glad for something to do to take her mind off of Clark. She walked back to her computer, closing her pictures and grabbing a notepad and pen. "I'll go to the hospital." she said.

"Good, good. There will probably be some family there. Just don't, under any circumstances, make them upset." he said. "If you do try and find any information from the student's parents, just ask for the Kelvins."

Chloe dropped her notebook and pen, looking up with alarm. "What's the student's name?"

"Sean Kelvin."


	3. Faces

Richard sat in the waiting room staring at the clock. He just watched it, getting some mental jolt and taking notice when the second hand moved across the minute hand. It wasn't much, but it occupied him... he didn't really know why he was still here. His instructor had gone home, the hospital staff had told him that he could go home too. But he didn't want to go home. He wanted to stay here, keep updated on this "Sean"'s recovery. Richard had found the perfect spot to die in piece but this boy had ruined it. Well, not ruined it... altered his plans. Richard found himself waiting for him to revive so they could talk.

Maybe Sean was down there for a reason... maybe god didn't want him to commit suicide. But what point was there in a month of pain-filled life? There was nothing. Nothing. Richard supposed that's why he had to talk to this boy. Why hadn't they died? How did Sean survive frozen for so long, how had Richard had the strength to call the boat as he somehow found the strength to surface? Why did his instructor risk to much by getting students to drag the ice block up? At the time all that was on anybody's mind was finding a name for the pour lost soul, give some sort of condolence to family that were still missing him. But now it was so much more.

The family would be here soon. Sean had been identified, but half of his body was still in ice... his body was frozen, too, the beginnings of experimental reanimation just beginning. The doctors didn't know if Sean would survive, or be anything more than a vegetable, or be able to walk and talk and do everything else normal humans took for granted. It was funny how the only ones who didn't take things for granted were the ones who didn't have them. Life, for instance. Richard no longer had that in any form he would find acceptable.

Richard's attention was diverted from the truly riveting clock as someone new entered the medical center. A woman. Blonde. Short hair... not his type. Richard liked long brunettes. Again, Richard noted, life for granted. In a month he wouldn't be able to chose one way or the other. A hair colour and length doesn't matter in the end. Nothing really does. The entire point of living was to just live. Why hadn't he figured this out when he was at an age he could build his life around it? Perhaps three? Richard watched the girl go up the front desk, asking for Sean's room. Getting a negative response. Explaining that she's a reporter. Getting a negative response. Explaining that she needs to see Sean. Getting a negative response. Asking for family members. Getting a negative response. Displaying a complete drive for a story she obviously doesn't want to touch and is thus doing it for somebody else's bidding and not her own proving her to be a weak-willed individual who doesn't know what she wants in life. Well, Richard didn't hear her say that with words, but he could read subtext in her voice. She clearly had others things on her mind... perhaps this Sean was important to her? Or maybe a troubled relationship with a boy? Girl? Parents? Teachers? Did she have a drug problem? Was she depressed? Bipolar?

_Stop it_, he thought. He would not allow himself to revert back to his old mental patterns. Dr. Weisenburg had cured him of such obsessive behavior. Richard knew that it was just an escape from reality his mind was creating, something pointless that would achieve no end. He couldn't waste his time on such things. He went back to watching the clock for moments when the hands met...

Chloe saw the kid staring at her. Why was he staring at her? Whispering to himself? Chloe sighed in some relief as the figure turned to stare at the clock, oddly enough. Psychotic patient? Mentally challenged? Chloe let her eyes fall over his body... dressed darkly at the moment, black jean pants with a black shirt and black jean overjacket. Hell, he even had black hair. Dyed. He had no apparent guardian around so he wasn't very mentally challenged... she seemed to remember him around the school. Perhaps he was a eleventh grade student.

Sullivan couldn't get in to see Sean and his family wasn't arriving for another hour or so. However, she was in no frame of mind to simply give up and go back to school. She had a chance to meet Sean again... figure out exactly why he went psychotic, given he wasn't currently. Chloe had become a meteor freak, but she hadn't gone psychotic. But she did become different. If she had powers for long enough would she have become psychotic? If so, was it because of the meteors or because of a natural fault in human beings?

Despite the question she faced she sat down, keeping a good four seat between her and the kid in black. Why was he staring at the clock? What was so special about it? Chloe turned her mental attentions to the clock as well, hoping to find what was so fascinating about it to the boy. Nothing?

"Hey."

Chloe blinked, snapping her head away from the clock to look at the boy in black. His attentions had turned from the clock to her, giving a warm inviting smile. "Hey," responded Chloe, deciding to keep things as simple as he'd started. She looked away from him and to the window, thinking that was to be the extent of their conversation. After all, they'd probably passed each other a million times in the hallways and never spoken. What made a waiting room so much different? _Well, for one thing, _she thought, _there's nothing else to do._

He moved up two seats so that there was only one separating them both, holding out a hand for her. "My name's Richard."

Several hours later Clark sat in Lex's office, adjusting himself ever-so-slightly to be more comfortable in the large leather chair... not that it was possible to be uncomfortable in the first place, though. Lex was very accommodating. "So, Lex, what's this all about?" the boy asked, somewhat nervously... had Lionel said something to Lex in Clark's body? Had he attempted to gain advantage over Lex?

Lex sat behind his desk, leaning back in his chair and putting his arm lazily on his desk. The perfect pose that he'd acquired, no doubt, from his father... it seemed strong and opposing while relaxed, striking fear into any businessman with the possibility of how strong and opposing the man would seem if he weren't in friendly conversation. He paused, looking up to one of his paintings as he spoke, "Clark, I know something happened to you. Involving my father. I'm not going to ask for any special explanation since you quite obviously won't give it. I'm not going to say what happened, but I want to know what else has been going on in your life. Anything I can help you fix."

Clark blinked. Then blinked again after a pause... okay, Lex was being rather straight-up with him. Clark smiled lightly and shook his head. "No Lex, everything is fine. Nothing I can't fix." he said, shifting his fingers on the couch unknowingly.

Lex would pick up on that, of course. "Oh, come now Clark. We both know that my father didn't leave your life untouched." he said. "I know something's bothering you. I've also seen that look on your face... parents? Lana?"

Clark sighed and looked to the side. "My parents are fine. Lana's... I don't know what's going on. It's Chloe." he said. Clark looked back to Lex, his true best friend sitting behind the desk, listening. He knew that the man couldn't be trusted with big things like his secrets. But personal problems? There was really nobody else Clark could talk to. Lex obviously knew what had happened to some extent... perhaps Clark did pay him a visit when Lionel was in his head instead. "Lionel said or did something, now Chloe hates me..."

"Why don't you tell her the truth?"

Clark's eyes widened, a certain ironic feeling entering his head. Lex really had no idea of how much that question had already been asked in his head. "Do you really think that she would believe me?"

"Good point. But she's your friend, Clark. She is the editor of the Torch. You've told me enough about her to know that she's been dealing with and trying to prove the existence of the paranormal in Smallville for years. Do you really think that she wouldn't believe that a switch happened? What other explanation could there be for you acting so out of character?"

Clark sighed, propping his head up on a hand. Perhaps he should tell Chloe everything... tell her why he couldn't have a relationship with her, tell her the truth about everything. Lex was right: she wouldn't freak out! Surprised, yes, but she'd get over it. Clark could stop lying to her and be who he really was. Pete wasn't here anymore, he needed somebody besides his parents to confide in! He needed to stop relying on his parents, who wouldn't always be with him, and try and rely on someone who could possibly be there with him wherever he went.

"Clark?"

Clark snapped out his thoughts, looking to Lex. "She... wouldn't believe me. It would only make things worse. I need to treat this like a normal problem. I'm sure... with enough work I can get her back."

Lex pushed back his chair, standing up. He smiled. "Clark, hard work is admirable. But sometimes you need to take risks to overcome obstacles. You'll never make it to where you want in life if you aren't willing to deal with problems in unconventional or risky ways. If you'll excuse me, Clark, I have some important people from Metropolis coming here for negotiations."

Clark sat up, smiling weakly and nodding. "I know, Lex. I'll think about it. Goodbye."


	4. Reunion

Chloe and Richard stood outside of the hospital room, looking in... Sean was in a bed, now, stirring to consciousness. His father and brother were there, having flown in from metropolis already. It was a momentous occasion for them - the return of their son to the living world. Richard's thoughts were still revolving around life, and why such a dead boy had parents and people who cared about him... when the very much alive Richard had nobody that ever really gave a damned thought about him. Chloe was thinking about the future. What would she write about this? What kind of punishment would Sean be put through once Chloe came forward with what actually happened to that girl? That also brought in the question of the meteor rocks. So many had gone insane... was it the meteors, or was it purely a human fault that made them all become so obsessive once they had such abilities? Was Sean well?

Chloe stared inside, watching Sean come to life still. Finally the boy opened his eyes, immediatly locking them onto his brother. Sean made as much of a smile as he could as his brother leaned forward, mutually embracing each other in a tight hug. There had been so much confusion in Sean's eyes... but that went away in the hug. Surely that couldn't have been the same person that tried to kill her? That murdered the other woman, that tried to kill Clark and his family?

Sean just kept hugging his brother, his brother hugging back. It had been more than two years since they had seen each other... all of the reports said that Sean was missing. Now he was back from the dead, found frozen at the bottom of a lake.

"Lake?" Sean asked, parting from his brother and staring up at his father. They'd found him in a lake? Sean didn't remember that... he remembered being thrown, he never remembered hitting the water.

The doctor nodded, stepping closer to Sean's bedside. "Yes. You were found frozen at the bottom of the lake, Mr. Kelvin. It's a medical miracle that we were able to revive you. Thankfully, a Luthorcorp was willing to lend us experimental treatment options... do you remember what happened before that time?"

Sean thought hard. Not to remember; he remembered it all in mortifying detail... like a nightmare that couldn't get unprinted. He was after people to keep himself alive, and Clark had used superhuman strength to stop him. No, not him. Someone else. Sean knew he wasn't perfect, but he also knew he wasn't a murderer. He wasn't the one that did all of those aweful things, he knew he wasn't. He needed to keep warm... he became obsessed with getting the heat. Heat? Why wasn't he cold now? What had happened since then? He was thrown into the lake and frozen, apparently. He remember nothing of that. It was as if Clark threw him and then suddenly in a hospital with two or three years passing...

"Mr. Kelvin?"

"Sorry..." he said. Clark. Clark had put him in the lake, managed to stop him doing more harm to people. Clark was a superhuman, a freak like him. "No. I don't remember anything..." he said, looking to his side and to his skin. It had almost returned to it's natural state... he didn't need heat anymore, or at least for the moment. Had the curse gone away? Sean reached down under the bed idly, touching the metal frame. Nothing. He wasn't absorbing the heat... he closed his eyes and concentrated. The frame suddenly became colder, freezing almost, then Sean let go.

"Doctor... treatment? What kind? Is it dangerous?" his father asked.

"No, no. Luthorcorp assures us it's perfectly safe. It's expanded upon technology used to defrost plant seeds under experimental freezing. We put Sean in a salt-water tank at luke warm temperature and used low-voltage electric currents mixed with low-cycle radiation. It managed to destroy any crystals within your son's body." he explained.

Sean smiled, looking up to him. "Thank you..." he said. It was gone. He didn't have to take heat anymore; he would never be cold again. He had the ability still, of course, but it was harder to use now and he wasn't dependant. He could start his life over again.

Why didn't they know about what he had done? Why wasn't he in jail already? Hadn't Clark or Chloe come forward with what they knew?

Three o'clock AM was always a quiet time for Smallville. Nothing was ever open because its citizens were all sleeping - with the exception of the occasional troup of teenagers the streets were empty. All store doors were closed, locked up to keep out thiefs. This didn't stop one theif. He grabbed ahold of the doorknob to the jewlery store, closing his eyes and concentrating... the heat escaped from it, sucked into his hand. The teenager crushed it under his hand, shattering it to pieces.

The door came open with ease, the incredibly loud alarm ignored with just as much effort. The figure walked into the corner of the shop, staring up into a security camera. He worse no mask at all, nothing to hide his features. He smiled at the camera and stook out his tongue, laughing as he turned to glass cases. Using his bat he crashed through the cases, destroying displays and throwing jewels about the room. He had no bag other than for books, nor did he fill up his pockets... he took the jewlery and threw it, causing as much destruction as he possibly could. After all, what was the point of money? Money only served to give you fun, things to live for. The figure had that without money, he always would. Nobody ever gave a damn about him. But this had taught him something... you had to make your own life, find your own purpose. This was fun, therefore there was a point.

The figure took a large jug of water from his bookbag. He unscrewd the cap, walking over to one of the display cases that was in best view of the camera. He had made certain to only break through the top display case, elaving four walls... he poured water into it, watching the liquid fill in around the displayed gemstones. After he filled in the water it only took one touch of his finger to freeze it, all while staring at the camera with a smirk.

He was on top of the world.


	5. From the Ashes

Clark closed his locker and turned down the hallway, everything turning to a blur as he moved through the crowds of people... they all seemed to stand still. Unlike all of the times before, however, this wasn't because of superspeed relativity. Clark was no longer concerned with everyone else, only one person: Chloe. Like so many times before he'd screwed things up, but unlike so many times before it wasn't him. For once he could honestly say that it was no part of him that caused his friends so much pain. Any other guy would have a fair chance to at least try and figure out how to solve the problem... but the field was unfair for Clark. It always was.

Somewhere between his locker and fourth year English he had subconsciously changed his path towards the Torch. He stood near the door, staring in... the door was unlocked, meaning that Chloe was inside. Clark was forcing himself not to eavesdrop on her and finally find out what Lionel had done. Such a thing was immoral, unfair. But it would make it more fair for Clark. Eavesdropping to find out what "he" had already done wasn't wrong, was it? Of course not. Clark held his side to the wall, closing his eyes and focusing on what he knew was Chloe's voice...

"-completely different, Lana. Everything was off. He didn't sit the right way, stand the right way, or even talk right. And... I know Clark would never do that to me." said the reporter, slouching herself back in her seat to look up at her best friend who was standing over her shoulder.

"Well neither of us thought that Clark would run away to Metropolis, but he did Chloe. Let's face it, we both know Clark isn't-"

"I know that, Lana. But nothing short of a Smallvillian myth could explain Clark's multiple personalities." she sighed, shaking her head. She wanted to stop thinking about Clark. He had consumed her life so completely yet again; he had made it so that nothing else bothered her. Chloe wouldn't have such mental paralysis. She decided to immediately take her mind off of the farm boy. Leaning forward to type at her computer's keyboard she stared up at an Internet media transfer media that was displayed on the screen. "A certain deputy friend of mine was willing to send me the video to that robbery last night."

Lana blinked, looking quite confused as she knelt int to watch the meter... within moments it would be finished. "Why're you looking into a robbery?"

"Security tapes are confidential for the remainder of an investigation. Judge Lawrence pronounced this tape to be permanently sealed... they're saying it's a normal robbery, but why lock up a normal robbery?" she questioned, grinning just that slight bit. That smile turned into complete shock as she saw the grainy, green-tinted video tape... the boy was freezing all of the jewels, shattering glass? Taking nothing? Who would rob a jewelery store and not take any jewels? "What the?" she asked, craning her head as the figure moved for the camera.

"Who is that?"

Chloe blinked, pausing the video as the boy's face became fully visible. "Sean... no, that's impossible. He was in the hospital all night. I was there, I came back this morning. There's police officers at his door. There's no way Sean broke out and back in..."

Clark pulled his ear away from the wall. There was only one person that could mimic the appearance of another... but Tina Greer was dead. Clark had seen her dead, had attended her burial. He'd X-Rayed to make sure that the deformed skeleton was deep in the ground, there in it's final resting position; He'd X-Rayed to make sure that Lana would never be attacked by one of her former best friends again. And Tina never took another's abilities. But, then again, she had never mimicked someone with mutant powers... maybe they were also copied? In any case, why would Tina make a trip from the ashes to frame Sean?

Clark looked up at a clock. He'd missed ten minutes of English, so he'd be marked as late. Some things were more important than class. In a moment's thinking he headed for the building's exit for Smallville's graveyard... if Tina were still alive and running around, she could pose a danger to Lana and any number of others.

Richard knelled in front of the tombstone with closed eyes. Those unseeing eyes stared at the ground before the tombstone to let the rain his his neck and traverse down his back under his shirt... it pleased his spine, it cleansed it. Letting the pouring rain wash over you was a hell of a lot better than crying. Richard had proved it to himself. Crying was just a simple form of weakness, an attempt to cleanse your mind with main-made raindrops. Richard decided it far better to let divine rain wash his mind free of all of those dark thoughts. I might be divine... it might not be. Richard wasn't sure of a Godly design or an Atheistic chaos. Or Godly chaos and Atheistic design... interesting to think about, Philosophy was. And all completely pointless. Whether or not there was a God had no effect on the fact that Richard's mother rested six feet below where Richard knelled.

Richard prayed. Not to God, not a random chance that caused the universe to come into being, but instead the only material thing that ever did exist to the teenager. His mother. She'd been taken so quickly, so suddenly... he hadn't had his chance to tell her all of the things he needed to. Gently her lowered a hand, just pressing his five fingertips against the earth on her grave site. he clenched his eyes and teeth and thinking with all of this might. He concentrated so hard on his words it made his temples hurt. He needed her to hear his prayers, to know who he was growing into. To know what he was dithering into. Somehow having a felt pain made the prayer real; the pain was tangible evidence that his efforts were having an effect.

A noise.

He pulled his hand away and looked up... there was a figure in the woods coming into the graveyard. Richard stood up and bolted, cutting between grave sites to escape the new presence's sights. Richard didn't want anybody to take pity on him. He didn't want them to take pity on him, even in their thoughts... he ran and ran, bolting and jumping over the west fencing.

Clark decided to enter a way other than the main gates. Teenagers visiting grave sites was never a normal thing. He cut though a bit of the woods, coming in from the north... he was still partially in the woods when he saw Tina's gravestone. From a distance he squinted, forcing his focus to go past the ground... he focused inside the wooden coffin, showing Tina's morphed skeleton. But it was not in the same resting position. Her hands were not held on her stomach, her body was not so neatly straight... it was mangled, like she'd had a seizure and rested again. Tiny bones covered the coffin, her right hand was even disconnected. What had caused such a violent disturbance?

Kent heard a noise. He lifted his head, stepping out from the woods to peer through the rain... he saw a figure in front of a tombstone, kneeling down with a palm to the ground, his body writhing in some sort of pain. Was the figure grieving? Clark was about to flee. Clark was about to, but he didn't... he'd helped Lana and talked with her enough for him to able to at least help someone in trouble.

Clark came out of the woods and showed quite a confused expression as the figure darted up and bolted for the fence. Why was he running away? Clark jogged at normal speed towards the man but soon gave up. If he didn't want to be helped then Clark had no right to impose himself. Kent just stood there, still keeping an eye on the figure as he left over the east fencing.


End file.
